


Forgiveness

by daniko



Series: HP/SS: Wartime [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2562398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniko/pseuds/daniko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the vision of a Death Eater raid, Harry lies in the Infirmary and Snape attempts to atone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Another one to escape tHE pURGE 2014.
> 
> Prompt Table 50.1 at now closed quill_it. Prompt 31 – _Forgiveness_.

Harry lay in the Infirmary, his gaze trained on the window next to his bed, watching two birds fly past by, carrying twigs back and forth. Soon, they were comfortably nested just outside Harry’s window. The sunlight shifted from yellow to the orange glow of sunset and then to purple, before the moon rose in the sky.

Just when the clock in Madam Pomfrey’s office chimed the seven o’clock, she strode in with a tray filled with Harry’s favourite foods – mashed potatoes, kidney pie and treacle tart – and a lot of chocolate.

In a way, he felt good about being taken care of as normal kids would, but he also felt a bit insulted. As if stuffing Harry with sweets would do anything to take his mind from the fact that he was now having seizures with his visions. Or that he was still having visions. Madam Pomfrey spared him a pained smile as she set the tray down on Harry's legs. She looked about to say something else, but then decided against it, squeezed Harry's shoulder and left, before Harry could say thank you. Or that he wasn't really hungry.

Harry never noticed he had fallen asleep until a low growl brought him back from his slumber. "Out of my way, Madam!"

“Headmaster!” cried Madam Pomfrey.

“Severus, be reasonable,” Dumbledore admonished. “The boy has gone through enough.”

“I must insist, Headmaster,” came the reply.

Something heavy settled on Harry’s stomach as he recalled last day’s events and he recognised the owner of the voice. He opened his eyes to see the blur that was Dumbledore standing next to his bed and, next to him, Severus Snape. Harry jerked upright.

“Mr Potter,” Snape began, taking a step forward, before stopping abruptly. He handed Harry his glasses, who was quick to put them on. “It would seem—.” Snape stopped again, looking away when their eyes met. He took a breath, as if he was gearing himself up for something; he straightened up, smoothed his robes and, finally, reached for Harry.

Harry couldn’t help himself. He flinched away.

Immediately, Snape’s expression went blank. He spared a last glance at Harry and turned abruptly. “Goodnight, Headmaster.”

Harry winced his tone. Snape sounded like he had been sentenced to spend the rest of his life with a Dementor. It was what prompted Harry to say, “Wait, Professor.” Snape stopped, but didn’t turn. Harry knew he should say something else, but the awkward mood made him hesitate.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I’ve just recalled something a must discuss with Poppy,” he offered casually. Snape turned his head sideways to look at the Headmaster and Harry had no doubt that he was glaring at the old man, but Dumbledore just gave him a reassuring smile. Neither Harry or Snape asked him to stay, either, and it didn’t take long before the door of Madam Pomfrey's office closed firmly behind him.

“I—uh, I’m sorry I reacted like that.”

“You can hardly help your instinctive reactions,” Snape said tersely.

Harry ignored him. “Why did you come here in the first place?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the reply. Despite of what he had seen in his dreams, or maybe because of it, Snape didn’t seem so frightening anymore. Instead, he looked scared and shell-shocked. Immensely guilty. Harry had never sympathised more with Snape for the role he had willingly impersonated. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t tell anyone. And I swear I don’t think any less of you after last night.”

“Your opinion is of no consequence to me, Potter,” Snape grouched, but he didn't look at Harry as he said it. “I shall leave you to your business now.” 

Snape's hands were shaking. Harry didn't think Snape should be alone. Harry had hated to be left alone with his nightmares after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He gestured to his now cold dinner on the nightstand. “You could help me finish my dinner first. I'm not all that hungry, though it's cold now.”

“Potter, are you not a wizard?" Snape demanded. "Consider this little service an exception." He did a complicated wave with his hand and a burst of hot hair came out of his wand and heated the food. "It's called the Hot-Air Charm. Professor Flitwick will expect a three inch description of the spell on his desk by Monday.”

Harry had to stop himself from pointing out Snape couldn't give work for other teachers' class. He glanced into Snape’s eyes bravely. “Agreed. If you help me finish my dinner." As Snapes's eyes narrowed, Harry added, "Come on. I don’t want to be alone right now. I’ll have nightmares.” Snape’s gaze shifted sideways, but he nodded jerkily. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ , Mr Potter,” Snape muttered, but Harry pretended not to hear. Just like he pretended not to notice how Snape spent the night clinging to his hand.


End file.
